On watching a bird hatch her eggs

Flitting about all day you are

In great earnest;

Fear grips you,

Fond Mother,

At the sight of curious men;

Yet patiently you toil,

To bring into this world of pain,

The new ones. They are

Far more helpless,

You know.

Perhaps Nature

Is cruel to you

(Some may think)

For making you so considerate.

Here you are tonight,

Blind, but undeterred

In purpose.

What makes you so

Persistent, when you know

They’d leave you

As soon as they grow?

Instinctive love

Has been subdued

By Woman,

But Nature has full play

In such harmless creatures as you.